


Catspaw

by Hagen



Series: Cauliflower [3]
Category: Logan Lucky (2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-22 03:19:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14299653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hagen/pseuds/Hagen
Summary: Cats choose their masters.





	Catspaw

                The tom-cat likes you immensely. He tolerates Clyde well enough, happy to lounge beside him on the arm of the couch for hours, but he adores you. You stroke him and talk to him, scratching him under the chin and kissing the top of his head. He curls up in your lap and purrs loudly, turning back to mewl obnoxiously when you let up the petting even just for a moment.

 

                “Does he really not have a name?” you ask. Clyde shakes his head.

 

                “He ain’t really a pet. He’s just … around. One day he squeezed in past me and jumped up here on the couch, and he never really left.”

 

                “How long have you had him?”

 

                “’Bout a year,” Clyde says, and realises with a jolt that for a year he’s been buying cat food and cat treats and deworming tablets to conceal in slices of ham. He watches as the tom-cat purrs, rubbing his head against your tummy, trilling delightedly when she reciprocates. “You can give it a name if you want.”

 

                You spend a long time considering this. Clyde makes coffee for himself and tea for you. When he comes back, coffee mugs burning the flat of his knuckles – he can carry two in one hand - you’re looking intently at the creature. It gazes back up at you.

 

                “Have you ever seen the Aristocats?” you ask him. Clyde sets down the mugs, inhaling through his teeth when the burning fades. He puts your mug on the coaster in front of you, and you murmur your thanks.

 

                “That about cats?”

 

                You smile. “Mm. It’s Disney.”

 

                “Mighta seen it when I was little. Remind me.”

 

                “It’s about a rich French lady that leaves her whole inheritance to her cats.”

 

                “That’s right, her cats. _Hell_.”

 

                “And she has a butler that hates cats, and so he kidnaps them and throws them into a river so that he’ll get the money instead.”

 

                Clyde sits in the armchair, watching you. He lifts the mug to his lips and you go on, “There’s a mother cat, Duchess, and her three kittens. They meet an alley-cat called Thomas O’Malley. That’s a good name, don’t you think?”

 

                “Thomas O’Malley,” he repeats, testing the name before he drinks.

 

                “He looks like a Thomas.” Your eyes go to his. “But he’s your cat.”

 

                Clyde shakes his head, mouth full of coffee. The tom-cat twirls his tail around your wrist, purring contentedly, and lies flat on your thigh, digging his little pale claws into your knee.

 

               “Seems like he likes you more’n he’ll ever like me,” he says, but as he observes, he doesn’t think _he’ll_ ever like anything as much as he likes you.

 

 

 

               


End file.
